I kiss her knuckles. I want to take the pain. I would cut off my own arm if it would take even a fraction of this burden from her.
"I’m here," I promise. "I’m right here."
"BP is spiking," Aris warns, looking at the monitor. "160 over 100. Silas, keep her calm."
"How the fuck am I supposed to keep her calm?" I roar. "She’s being torn apart!"
"Silas!" Ivy snaps. "Stop yelling at him! Look at me!"
I look down at her. Her eyes are dark pools of exhaustion, but the fire is still there.
"Breathe with me," she commands.
I do. I match her rhythm. Inhale. Exhale. We are locked together, a closed circuit of panic and resolve.
"She’s crowning," Aris announces. "Ivy, on the next one, I need you to push with everything you have."
"I’m tired," she whispers.
"One more," I say, leaning close to her ear. "Just one more battle, little bird. And then we win."
She nods. She grips my hand so hard I feel the bones grinding.
The contraction hits.
She pushes. She screams, a sound that vibrates in my own chest.
I watch. I see the head emerge. Dark hair, matted with blood and vernix.
"Shoulders," Aris says. "One more."
Ivy gives a final, guttural cry.
And then... silence.
Followed by a wet, gurgling sound.
And then, a wail.
It is the loudest sound I have ever heard. It pierces the room, shattering the tension.
Aris lifts the baby.
It is small. Red. Covered in the mess of birth.
It is the most terrifying thing I have ever seen.
"It’s a girl," Aris says, smiling.
A girl.
My knees almost give out. A daughter. A princess for the kingdom of ash I built.
Aris places her on Ivy’s chest.
The crying stops instantly. The baby nuzzles against Ivy’s skin, seeking warmth, seeking the heartbeat she knows.
Ivy sobs. She wraps her arms around the tiny, slippery body. She kisses the baby’s head, indifferent to the blood.
